Chapter 95

THE MOVIE.....

As Kiel played his role as Nixon, the theater fell into a hush. Every eye was locked on the screen, the air thick with anticipation. The scene unfolded in stark shadows and muted tones, the kind that made your skin crawl.

Nixon stood before his gang, a woman crouched beside him, her face hidden beneath a curtain of dark hair. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering neon sign outside the cracked window. He reached down, fingers like iron, and lifted her chin. Her eyes met his—wide, uncertain, and trembling.

"Scared little kitty," Nixon said, his voice low and cold, "after what you did. Are you a spy?"

His tone was devoid of grace, his face a mask of indifference. But it was his eyes—those blank, emotionless eyes—that told the woman she was in danger. They were the eyes of a man who had seen too much and cared too little.